MacKenzie Scott

For some reason, going to a funeral and gathering in a cemetery doesn't serve us as it once did. People find satisfaction in erecting crosses along the public way.

It seems there is no time simply to weep over the wrong of the world. The public’s instinct that we have a share in victims’ suffering doesn’t find a fit way to grieve just for them.

Bruce’s dog intruded on the Easter sunrise service. It had caught a bunny, of all things, and choked while attempting to eat it. This little reminder of nature red in tooth and claw marred the morning’s tranquility. The God emptying the borrowed grave in order to bring life and immortality to light seemed complicit in the routine reality of a dog-eat-bunny creation.

The steward's only failing may be that he's replaceable, and the lesson he learns is that money talks.